


The way to Tuonela

by orphan_account



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Death, Gen, It's not working, Semi-graphic violence, Suicide Pact, The author is distraught over the newest page and trying to heal, death everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:16:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9173155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Tuuri speaks, her voice is much more sad and subdued “I always figured I’d die alone. I know I talked about dying with my family around me, my twelve children and six ex-husbands…but I knew the Rash was going to get me. From Saimaa, I knew I was just living on borrowed time until the Rash found me. Part of the reason I agreed to go on this mission was because I wanted to get a look at the thing that would kill me…and maybe I was sick of waiting.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> *grossing sobbing* Tuuri....

It was surprisingly easy to persuade the others to leave them behind. Once Lalli made it clear to Tuuri that he does not intend to allow her to die alone, Tuuri argued his case. She spoke slowly and staunchly, refusing to shift from her position, although she burst into tears several times while doing it. 

“The issue isn’t that he won’t understand you- his Swedish is functional now- it’s…it’s just Saimaa. We both lost too much in Saimaa. He can’t do that again.”

Tuuri and Sigrun sat opposite from each other. Tuuri was on a fallen tree, Sigrun cross-legged at her feet in the snow. Sigrun listened. One of the most difficult things in the world for her is to sit and just listen, but she managed it, and by the time Tuuri finished her plea she was as convinced as Tuuri that Lalli must be allowed to stay with his cousin while the others moved ahead. There could be no retrieving him. There was no reason to collect his body either, because he could not be buried alongside Tuuri- her infection, however slight at this point, was still a major risk to Reynir. And anyway, where were they going to stick the corpse? Mikkel earnestly suggested the linen closet, which made Tuuri laugh.   
In the end, it was decided the Hotakainens would just be left to each other and the elements. 

While the debate went on between Mikkel, Sigrun and Tuuri, Lalli tied up the loose ends of his own affairs. He took his grandmother’s rifle from his shoulder for the last time and handed it over to Emil. Then he spent a few minutes showing Emil how to line up the sights, how to put the safety on, the basics of how to clean and reload the gun, at which point he turned over all the bullets. If they could understand each other better Lalli would have told him that the gun was a faithful weapon. Lalli neglected it a little bit in favour of his pukko and luonto, but if Emil treated it well, it should not fail him in battle.   
He did not want to try to say this in his broken Swedish. The language of gesture they had worked up between them would be sufficient. Emil had already guessed that the pukko on Lalli’s belt was the only weapon they would need. And after the rifle had been handed over, there was little left to do. Lalli was not aware of a way to effectively say goodbye to Emil. How could he tell Emil what their brief, close relationship had meant to him? Was there a way to tell him how much Lalli had wanted to know him outside of the Tank as well? 

Maybe, if they had had a chance to learn a common language that used words, and to know each other as something other than friends, maybe Lalli would have been happy to spend his life with Emil. Maybe. Most likely. Now that Emil is about to duck out of the rest of Lalli’s (pathetically short) life, Lalli is certain of it, in the way that mages are sometimes certain of things which will happen in the future. Lalli would have married him about five years from now. Later, there would be a son, either named Hannu or Jukka, and possibly a daughter. Definitely a dog. Lots of them, because Emil would develop a passionate love for dogs that could only be sated by the annual addition of a new mutt or puppy to the household.

No way to, no point in telling this to Emil. Instead, Lalli pulled Emil into a hug. The rifle laid forgotten in the snow while Emil wrapped his arms around Lalli’s neck and rested his face in the scoop between his shoulder and his neck. It would have been nice, Lalli thought, to have embraced Emil more than once. Deliberately- not the terrified seizing like on the train, or the accidental hugs that happened every time Emil tripped over something and Lalli was close enough to catch him.  
Emil was the first to pull away. He excused himself to the Tank without a backwards glance, only lingering to grasp Tuuri’s good shoulder and mutter something in Swedish that made her eyes well up again.  
By dawn, Mikkel and Sigrun had run out of ways to stall Tuuri. The light had come; it was time for them to move on. Luckily, Tuuri had taught Reynir to drive the Tank fairly well by then, both out of sheer boredom during the times when they were left alone in the Tank, and out of a thoughtful caution, in case she was somehow removed from the mission and there was no one left to drive. They had already agreed there was no need to replace Lalli’s scouting; the military station they aimed for was only a few dozen kilometres ahead, in a straight path, and at this late stage in the mission there was no need to scavenge from anymore towns. 

The Hotakainens could bow out of the mission without stranding or crippling it. Just reducing the number of personnel. And, in a way, doing their colleagues a favour, because this meant that the survivors would get a larger pay-check.   
Reynir did not come out of the Tank. Partly because the Rash was spreading gently over Tuuri’s skin even as they watched, and partly because he did not want to say goodbye. He seemed to have convinced himself that Tuuri would walk back into the Tank at any moment, healthy, hale, laughing at one of Sigrun’s saucier jokes. Lalli would follow and tuck himself under Emil’s bed, sullen and sleepy, and in another moment his haven would open for Reynir. Lalli was sorry that he was going to miss out on that too- Reynir, getting to know him, eventually becoming friends. From the earliest days of Reynir’s unexpected internship, Lalli could feel the other man creeping up on him in a way that was both predatory and unabashedly friendly. They would have been friends. Perhaps Hannu would have had a godfather.

Mikkel said goodbye the same way he said hello; a firm handshake, then an extra squeeze to the shoulder. Lalli could see his eyes were wet. But Mikkel was not going to cry, not just then. He would wait. Sigrun kept her distance. She seemed to sense that Lalli was done with her. Done with them all. He just wanted to be alone with Tuuri. So she gave him a crisp salute and a wan smile, then retreated into the Tank.  
Tuuri stood and joined Lalli, wrapped in a blue cloak that had apparently been a part of Sigrun’s old uniform. She waved to the Tank, then put her back to it and lead Lalli off into the quiet wilderness.

 

And here they are.  
They walked for at least two hours. Tuuri began to lean on Lalli for support about an hour ago, and he has been carrying her for the last half-hour, on his back, the way she used to transport him around Mikkeli before he learned to walk. Neither of them have discussed why they are walking or where they will stop, but Lalli would like to go on for as long as Tuuri will let him. The longer he has to wait to kill his cousin, the more prepared he will be for the task.

“…be glad of the welcome they get on the ship, anyway. Do you think Reynir will handle quarantine ok? We’re not exactly leaving him with fond memories of the trip.”

Lalli kicks up a shower of snow and allows himself a light smile at Tuuri’s shrieks, as the snow peppers her “He’ll be fine.”

“I hope so. Mikkel, he won’t let Reynir sink too deep into depression. Hel, he might even go into quarantine with him. They can play cards all day.”

“Maybe.”

“Emil will be fine. Sig will take him to Dalsnes. He’ll become an even better soldier than her. He’ll Cleanse Sweden on his own, then move onto Norway, then Finland, then Denmark, and when he’s cleaned up all the nations of the Known World, he can start on the others. France, Germany, Belgium. In a decade he’ll be in Morocco, and Reynir will finally get to see palm trees.”

“What’s Reynir been doing all this time?”

Tuuri mulls it over, tapping Lalli’s clavicle with her knuckles “You know, this might upset you to think about, but I wonder if Emil and Reynir might not get together after this?”

It doesn’t upset him to think, however implausible it is. The thought of Emil having someone else to take care of him is quite comforting. Especially someone Lalli knows and was beginning to trust “Doesn’t bother me.”

“They have a lot of things in common. They were both kinda sheltered. They both have amazing hair. They’re both very sweet. But there’s enough different about them to keep it interesting. Like, Reynir has no idea of how to defend himself, and Emil sets fire to everything that moves. Emil can protect him. Reynir can, I don’t know, play the role of comforting war-wife every night when Emil trudges home from the front in Russia.”

“How did he get to Russia so fast?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Mikkel took up mechanics when he got bored of birthing calves. He was so good at it that he got planes working again.”

“And the fuel?”

“Sigrun sweats it. She’s such a badass she sweats jet fuel and sneezes napalm.”

“I can believe that.”

Lalli stops for a breather beneath a tall oak tree. He puts Tuuri down in the snow for a moment and twists the kinks out of his spine, then drops to her side. Tuuri wraps an arm around his shoulder without asking first- normally, she never does this, but she must have reasoned that it is just a waste of her precious remaining with a fuss over the little details.  
A purple flush colours her neck, like a bruise. Her eyes are ringed and dark from exhaustion. The Rash always moves faster when its host is tired. 

When Tuuri speaks, her voice is much more sad and subdued “I always figured I’d die alone. I know I talked about dying with my family around me, my twelve children and six ex-husbands…but I knew the Rash was going to get me. From Saimaa, I knew I was just living on borrowed time until the Rash found me. Part of the reason I agreed to go on this mission was because I wanted to get a look at the thing that would kill me…and maybe I was sick of waiting.”

“Waiting.” he repeats.

She nods “Waiting to die. Maybe I took this job because I knew it would kill me. Maybe I’m just sick of being alive when all our family is dead…Onni is dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“The fire, Kokko. I heard her. I felt her go over. And I felt her take him too.” Tuuri wipes her eyes on the back of her sleeve, and frowns and the smear of blood that has come out with the tears “So we don’t have to feel guilty about leaving Onni. Really, we should feel bad that we’re making Onni wait in Tuonela."

“Do you want to keep going?”

Tuuri nods “Let’s find some water. I don’t care if it’s frozen. We were born near the water, so we should die near it. Don’t you think?”

Lalli shrugs.

Though there is a pain in her legs, Tuuri insists on walking by herself. She lets Lalli hold her arm, though he suspects this is more for his comfort than her balance. 

“Already like a three-week patient,” Tuuri scratches lightly at the purple on her neck “I wonder if the stuff out here is more aggressive than what we had at home?”

“It’s had a long time to fester.”

“True- oh, look, a bunny’s tracks!”

Tuuri points out a clear set of prints in the fresh snow, crossing their path. 

“You hungry?”

“What? No, no, I’m just happy to see a there are bunnies here. Life in general. Maybe we shouldn’t die near water, actually. I might pollute the water.” She raises her hand and inspects the darkening veins on the back “Look at me. I’m a mess.”

Lalli does not look. He trains his eyes on the ground in front of them instead, wishing for another set of tracks.

Around an hour and a half later, they stop in front of a silver ribbon of frozen water. Tuuri knocks her heel against the thick ice covering and is satisfied: “I can’t leak through that. I’ll probably be eaten by the time the thaw comes. You know trolls do that? They eat each other, and infected people? Mikkel told me. I wish you could have heard some of his stories about Kastrup.”

Lalli sits down in the snow and puts his back to a frosted rowan tree. The cold has finally begun to work its way into his layers. His fingers are a little numbed and he lost feeling in his toes about half an hour back. No sense in complaining. It’s not like the frostbite or hypothermia will have enough time to sink its teeth into him.   
Tuuri sits beside him, practically in his lap. She wraps an arm around his shoulders again and rests her head on his shoulder, and he rests his own on her head.

"I'm not that scared, you know. I thought I would be. I think it's mostly 'cos I've got you, so I don't have to worry about becoming a ghost. You know the way to Tuonela, right?"

"Right."

“It’s nice here. Cute. The Danish wild is kind of cute. Nothing threatening, nothing glorious. It feels kind of fake, you know?”

Lalli nods.

“I wish we were back in Finland. I wish there was a bear across the river, and a näkki trying to tempt us into the river, and a snake in my pocket and a pack of wolves circling, waiting for us to die so they could eat us while we’re still warm.” Tuuri sniffs.

“And a deer licking the salt from your tears.” offers Lalli.

She laughs. Not the weak stuff she has managed since her wound. The loud, half-howling stuff that used to send Lalli scuttling under furniture when he was young. The stuff that rocks her whole body and makes her slap her knee. He suspects the laugh is mostly hysterical, but is happy to smile along with it. At least she hasn’t forgotten her laugh.

“You know what?” Tuuri grinds a red knuckle across her eyes “I’m really sorry. I’m such a shitty cousin. I’ve always dragged you after me. Like, before you could even walk, I’d put you on my back so I didn’t have to go on my stupid adventures alone. And to get you out here, you know what I did? I quit your job for you. The day before we left I told your boss that you were coming with me and Taru. That’s why you thought you were fired, ‘cos you didn’t quit in the first place. And then I pretended it was just you being all slow, forgetting that you’d resigned, when it was really just me because I decided I wasn’t gonna go alone and gods be damned if I wasn’t gonna get you to come with me, whether you wanted to or not. And you really hated this. You were sick on the boat and in the car, you had no idea what was happening or what I’d volunteered us for, and I stranded you in a tiny Tank with no one to talk to but me and Reynir in your head. Every damned day, you had to go out and scout around, and throw your luonto at anything that scared you. And when you got sick from using him too much? I just brushed it off- like, don’t worry, he’s just comatose. No problems there. I couldn’t admit how far out of my depth I was and how far out of your depth I made you go. And I got Onni killed protecting us, and now I’ve got you killed because I had to go and get clawed by that fucking troll. So I killed off the whole rest of the family just for my fun. Challenge myself, see how far I could sneak into the Silent World. Just because I was fucking bored.”

When she is finished Tuuri curls in on herself and weeps into her knees. She wraps both arms about her legs and rocks slightly.

Lalli takes his time processing what she has said. He takes every bit of information and turns it slowly in his hands.   
Finally, he concludes aloud: “It was fun, though.”

Tuuri stops in mid-sob. She lifts her tear-stained face “Fun?” she repeats incredulously “What the fuck do you mean, fun?”

He shrugs “We met some great people. We went to Sweden. We got on a train for the first time in our lives. You got to look at books, I got to scout and meet an Icelandic mage. You kind of got pet cat, and you’ve never been able to have one of those before because I’m so territorial.”

“You don’t have to try to make me feel better.”

“I’m trying to make myself feel better. I don’t want to die either.”

“You could catch up to them. The station’s not that far away, for you. You’d only have to spend a few nights in the open. The gods would help you.”

He shakes his head “It’s hard enough to get out of bed knowing that Mom, Dad, Grandma and your folks are dead. And my sister. I’d rather not go around with you and Onni dead as well.”

Tuuri hugs him. He is careful not to squeeze her very hard. Her Rash is crazily advanced for someone who contracted it only last night, so her whole body must be throbbing by now. After a long time, Tuuri mutters something into his chest.

“What?”

“I said I’m ready. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” he lies, drawing his pukko “Tilt your head back. I need to see your throat.”

Tuuri obliges, swallowing nervously “And you’ll be right behind me?”

“Before you get cold.” he promises.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The pukko moves across Tuuri’s throat. And a minute later, across his own.

**Author's Note:**

> SHE HAS TO LIVE DO YOU HEAR ME SHE HAS TO SURVIVE AAAKJDKJFKDJFKDJFKDJFKDJFD
> 
> *hysterical sobbing*


End file.
